


All I Want for Christmas

by XOLove47



Series: Holidays with Fitzsimmons [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Fluff, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, Friends to Lovers, Holiday Fic Exchange, Non-SHIELD AU, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XOLove47/pseuds/XOLove47
Summary: Stuck in the airport on December 23, college student Fitz meets a friendly fellow traveler also trying to get home for the holidays. A Friends-to-Lovers, Non-SHIELD AU spanning three Christmases.





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dot11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dot11/gifts).



> A Fitzsimmons Secret Santa gift for the amazing @doteleven! Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Standing in front the departures board at the bustling airport, Fitz couldn’t help but grimace. Clearly, this was his punishment for waiting to fly back home until December 23rd. Cutting it so close to the holiday, he knew he’d be in for an (extra) long wait in the security queue, but he  _ hadn’t  _ anticipated a freak London snowstorm. Now his flight was delayed and at this rate, he was definitely going to miss his connection. His mum would not be pleased. He had opted to stay at school the last two Christmases and if he missed another, he was genuinely afraid she would disown him. 

“Oh, that’s bloody ridiculous!” 

The sudden outburst broke through the thoughts swirling in his head. Fitz turned in the direction of the disgruntled traveler and was mildly surprised to find a petite brunette, about his age, standing next to him. Wearing a burgundy sweater over a crisp collared shirt and a frustrated scowl that matched his own, he didn’t even need to ask what the source of her agitation was.

The woman caught Fitz staring and looked sheepish, gesturing at the screen, “Sorry-- Looks like my flight is  _ majorly _ delayed. Ugh, flying during the holidays is the worst!”

“No, no. I totally get it-- I’m in the same boat. And honestly, who wants to be stuck in an airport at Christmas?” Fitz agreed. “I’m guessing you’re flying into Heathrow too? Apparently, it’s snowing pretty bad in London, causing all sorts of delays and generally wreaking havoc on everyone’s holiday travel.”

“Well, that’s just perfect. All I want for Christmas is to get home and Mother Nature decides to throw a big snowy roadblock in my way,” the brunette muttered. Turning to face him, her tone softened, “I appreciate you letting me know. Normally I’m more on top of these things, but finals have really done me in.”

Fitz opened his mouth to ask where she went to school, but at that exact moment, her phone rang. She glanced down at the screen and said, “Shoot, I better answer this. Thanks again-- and Happy Christmas!”

Before he could even respond, the mystery girl had turned on her heel and put the phone to her ear. As she walked away, he heard her say,  “Hi mum. Yes, I heard about the weather… yes, my flight’s delayed…”

She briefly glanced back at him and he gave an awkward little wave. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her phone call. Shaking his head, Fitz shuffled towards his gate, chalking up the conversation as a pleasant interaction with a stranger he was unlikely to ever see again. 

He found his gate quickly and was surprised to find that it was still fairly empty, especially considering it was the day before Christmas Eve. Claiming a seat with an outlet nearby, he sat down and threw his backpack on the empty chair next to him. Pulling his laptop out and queueing up an episode of Doctor Who, Fitz settled in and prepared himself for a long night of waiting around the airport. 

A little over halfway into the episode, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Pausing the video and tugging the headphones out of his ear, Fitz looked up to see his mystery girl standing in front of him (not that she was  _ his _ , he corrected mentally). She asked tentatively, “Is anybody sitting here?”

Fitz looked at her blankly for a few seconds before glancing around the terminal. In the half hour that he had been watching the episode, the gate had really filled up. Somehow, the chair currently occupied by his bag was now one of the few empty ones left.

Quickly snatching his backpack off the seat, Fitz sputtered, “Oh, yeah. Of course! Sorry about that.”

The girl smiled and sat down next to him. “No problem.  _ I’m _ sorry I ran off like that earlier-- you know how mums are. Plus, I figured if I was going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, I needed supplies,” she said, waving the large Starbucks cup and bag from the newsstand she was carrying.

“Smart. All I have is half-eaten granola bar and some stale biscuits in my bag.”

“Oh! I’m more than happy to share,” the girl piped up. ”Crisp?” 

That gave Fitz the opening he needed. “I don’t know-- my mom always warned me not to accept food from strangers. I don’t even know your name,” he said with a wry smile.

“Oh! Right, that would help! I’m Jemma, Jemma Simmons,” she said, sticking her hand out over their shared armrest. 

Fitz grasped her extended hand, “Leopold Fitz. But everyone just calls me Fitz.”

“Well, Fitz, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Jemma.”

The pair held the handshake a beat or two longer than necessary. Fitz realized this and dropped it quickly, a blush creeping up his cheeks, Embarrassed, his eyes darted to the flight status screen by the gate, desperate for a distraction. 

When he looked back, Fitz noticed that Jemma had zeroed on his half closed laptop, her eyes wide as saucers. Looking at the many stickers adorning his laptop, Fitz tried to figure out which one had caught Jemma’s attention. “What? Is it my United sticker? Please don’t tell me you support Liverpool-- I may have to reconsider our budding friendship.”

Jemma scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. What is it with boys and football? My boyfriend is the same way about his team. No, I was looking at that-- MIT?”

Fitz’s stomach dropped a bit at the casual mention of a boyfriend, but curiosity got the better of him, so he brushed it off. Brow furrowed, he replied, “That? Well, yeah, I go to MIT. Am I missing something? What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is I also go to MIT!” Jemma blurted out. “Which is pretty crazy, if you ask me…”

“What? No way!” Fitz exclaimed. “What year? What department?”

“Biochem. And I’m a junior-- why are you looking at me like I have two heads?”

“Because I’m a junior, too. Engineering, though.”

Both Jemma and Fitz let this new information sink in for a second, holding each other’s gaze.

After a beat, Jemma said slowly, “So let me get this straight. We’ve both been on the same campus for the past two and half years and have never crossed paths, but we randomly meet at one of the busiest airports on one of the busiest travel days of the year. What are the odds?”

“Pretty astronomical actually. There are just over 11,000 students at MIT and we’ve both likely spent over 800 days on campus--”

“Fitz, stop-- that was rhetorical. I don’t need you to do the math,” Jemma interrupted, rolling her eyes. “But for the record, I’m glad we beat the odds and met today. Even if it took a snowstorm to make it happen.”

Fitz and Jemma spent the next hour comparing notes-- running down friends, classes and professors to see if there was any overlap. They mostly ran in separate circles, but they did share a couple of common acquaintances. There had apparently been few near misses over the years-- like in their freshman year, when they had been signed up for the same chem lab, but Fitz transferred out last minute to make room in his schedule for an extra engineering elective. 

The conversation turned to how they ended up at MIT in the first place (Jemma’s dad was crushed when she chose MIT over his alma mater, Cambridge) and why they had chosen their respective fields (Fitz was always tinkering and trying to invent things as a kid, so engineering was a natural fit). 

As their original two hour delay stretched into hour four, Fitz realized he should be angry or frustrated at the situation, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He marveled at how the time seemed to be flying-- and how comfortable he felt around Jemma. An introvert at heart, it normally took him a while to warm up to new people. But not with her-- it was like they had been friends for years.

By the time they  **_finally_ ** boarded the plane an hour later (a full five-and-a-half hours later than they were supposed to!) and went their separate ways for the holiday, he could already tell that Jemma was going to become a big part of his life.  


	2. Year Two

_**One Year Later** _

As he climbed the stairs to Jemma’s off-campus apartment (because naturally, the dingy elevator was out of service  _ again _ ), Fitz couldn’t help but think  _ what a difference a year makes _ . This time last year, he didn’t even know Jemma. Now, they were best friends and practically inseparable-- so much so, their friends had started calling them Fitzsimmons (which had originally started with Hunter taking the mickey out of them, but the portmanteau just kind of stuck).

Slightly out of breath, Fitz paused outside Jemma’s apartment to collect himself, tugging at the hem of his garish sweater uncomfortably. He couldn’t believe he let Jemma talk him into wearing it-- bright red and emblazoned with a Christmas tree, the bloody thing even lit up. He could still hear her voice echoing in his head,  _ It’s an Ugly Christmas Sweater Party, Fitz-- it’s supposed to be in-your-face festive. _

Raising his fist, he knocked on the door, careful to avoid the large wreath hanging from it. Instead of the door swinging open as expected, he was greeted by a metal clang and a slightly muffled “Come on in, it’s open!” from the other side. 

Fitz opened the door slowly and peaked his head through, “Hello?”

“Fitz, hi!” Jemma said brightly from the kitchen. “I’m almost ready-- I just need to pull this last batch of cookies out of the oven.”

Jemma apparently had been baking up a storm. Flour was strewn about the kitchen and tupperware containers full of cookies occupied what limited counter space she had.

“Take your time,” Fitz said, as he flopped down on the couch. “For the record, you shouldn’t just let people in like that-- living alone in this neighborhood, it’s not safe. I could have been an axe murderer.”

“Oh, stop-- you’re my best friend, not my father. Besides, I knew it was you!” Jemma insisted, rolling her eyes at his overprotectiveness. “And for the last time, there’s nothing wrong with this apartment  _ or _ this neighborhood.”

Jemma’s apartment was a bit of sore point between them. Originally, she was supposed to move in with her boyfriend Milton. But two weeks before classes started, he backed out, saying that it would be “too much to deal with” and that he “needed to focus” on his first semester at Harvard Law-- which meant Jemma had to scramble to find a place to live at the last minute. Fitz thought Milton was a right tosser (and not just because he left Jemma to live in this cramped, crappy apartment), but he largely kept his opinion to himself. Who Jemma dated wasn’t any of his business. He did worry about her though. It was natural to care about your best friend, right?

Fitz didn’t feel like getting into it again, so he raised his hands and conceded, “Alright, alright. So any last minute tips for me to survive tonight?”

Daisy’s annual end of the semester holiday party was legendary within certain circles of MIT, but since he hadn’t actually met the computer science major and self-proclaimed hacktivist until Jemma introduced them, this would be his first.

“Stay away from the eggnog,” Jemma warned. “That stuff is dangerous-- I had two cups last year and I woke up the next morning with almost no recollection of the night before. But apparently, I led a pretty epic Christmas carol sing-a-long.”  

His mild-mannered best friend, drunk and out of control? Fitz couldn’t picture it. He said with a teasing smile, “Now that I would have paid to seen.” 

“Well, tough. I’m taking my own advice and staying far, far away from the nog this year, so there aren’t any repeat performances. Ready to go?” Jemma asked, pulling off her apron to reveal her ugly sweater--a bright green number with a reindeer wearing thick rimmed glasses. Hers didn’t light up, but made up for it with lots glitter and sequins.

Fitz scrambled to his feet, “Yup, ready whenever you are.”

Jemma pulled on her coat and grabbed a bag filled to the brim with containers of cookies from the counter, “Do you mind if we swing by Milton’s place to drop off some cookies on the way?”

Fitz’s stomach did a little flip. Milton skipping the party was news to him. “Yeah, no problem. He’s not coming tonight?”

“His last final isn’t until tomorrow, so unfortunately, he’s stuck studying. Life of a 1L and all. I feel bad he’s missing it, so I’m hoping to cheer him up with a surprise cookie delivery.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Fitz said, his tone a bit more biting than he intended. Realizing his dislike of Milton was peeking through, he quickly backtracked,  “Not that you’re not usually thoughtful. You’re probably the most--”

Laughing, Jemma cut Fitz’s rambling off, “I knew what you meant. Now let’s go-- we don’t want to be late.”

* * *

The trip to Milton’s flat didn’t take long-- and as Jemma said, it was on the way to Daisy’s anyway. The first snow of the year had already fallen, so a white blanket covered the city. That, coupled with twinkling Christmas lights and decorations, made for a rather picturesque walk.

As the pair took the elevator up to the 32nd floor of his swanky high rise apartment, Fitz seethed as he mentally compared this place with Jemma’s-- but again, he kept his mouth shut.

Jemma led the way down a long corridor, before pausing in front of a black door and knocking. Fitz rocked back on his heel as they waited for a response, but none came. Jemma knocked again

“He probably just has his headphones on and can’t hear the knocking,” Jemma reasoned. “I’ll just use my key-- that’s why he gave it to me afterall.”

Fishing her keys out of her purse, she turned the key in the lock and called out as she opened the door, “Milton, Fitz and I come bearing cookies.”

But surprisingly, Milton didn’t answer and there was no sign of him anywhere. Books were stacked high on the kitchen table and two mugs left unattended.

“Hmm, maybe he ran out to grab someth--” Jemma started to muse, but was interrupted by a loud thump from the bedroom, followed by a high pitched (and decidedly female) yelp.

_ Oh no _ , Fitz thought, as a knot formed in his stomach. This wasn’t going to end well.

Milton came out of the bedroom, followed closely by a girl with long chestnut brown hair. Both were completely disheveled-- it looked like Milton had even missed a button.   

Milton managed to stammer out, “Jemma, hi. I wasn’t expecting you-- I thought you had Daisy’s party tonight.”

“Clearly,” Jemma replied, voice dripping with disdain. “I felt bad you were stuck studying tonight, so I thought I’d surprise you with cookies-- gingerbread, your favorite. Guess I’m the one who got the surprise.” 

“It isn’t what it looks like. I was just showing Callie a book--

Jemma scoffed, holding her hand up, “Stop, stop. On top of everything, please don’t insult my intelligence. We  _ all _ know it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Jemma and Milton stared each other down for what felt like an eternity. The tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Fitz looked down at his feet, and shuffled awkwardly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Callie doing the same.

“Okay, fine! Yes, Callie and I slept together,” Milton admitted. “Are you happy now?

“Am I happy? You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Jemma practically screeched. “Yes, Milton, I’m over the moon my boyfriend has been lying to me and cheating on me with another woman.”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Jemma. We’ve been studying together a lot lately and it just happened. You can’t imagine the pressure I’ve been under with school and everything and Callie, well, she gets it. It’s easy with her.”

“Oh, that’s the biggest load of bollocks that I’ve ever heard. Of course it  _ means _ something,” she fumed. “Not to mention, I’m a the top of my class at MIT. I’m on track to have two PhDs before I’m 25-- if there’s one thing I get, it’s academic pressure. That’s a pathetic excuse and you know it. If that’s the best defense you can come up with, I can already tell you’re going to be a shite lawyer.” 

That jab clearly got under Milton’s skin.  He took a step forward and moved closer toward Jemma, ready to go on the offensive.

“What about you and Fitz, huh?” Milton asked, gesturing towards him. “You two have gotten awfully cozy this year. Are you telling me nothing has ever happened there?”

If looks could kill, Milton would have been struck down then and there. Jemma seethed, “Don’t you dare try and project your misdeeds onto me. I would never cheat on you with anybody, least of all Fitz. We are just friends. Not everyone is like you and incapable being friends with someone of the opposite sex and keeping their pants on.”

The words  _ least of all Fitz _ rang in his ears and though it stung, Fitz tried not to take it personally. It was just something Jemma said in the heat of the moment. It didn’t mean anything.

“You think you’re so much better than me? Really, you? You’re just a little mousy know-it-all, always have been. And a prude to boot. I honestly don’t know what I ever saw in you,” Milton spat.

Jemma looked like she had been slapped. That was the final straw for Fitz. Getting in between them, he grabbed Jemma’s arm, “C’mon, Jemma-- let’s go. You don’t have to stay and listen to this ass any longer.”

“Stay out of this, Fitz. It’s not any of your business,” Milton said, trying to push him out of the way.

Fitz stood his ground, “You made it my business. And for the record, I always thought you were an entitled prick who didn’t deserve someone like Jemma. I kept my mouth shut for her sake, but thanks for proving me right.”

Anger contorting his features, Milton took a big swing at Fitz and missed. On instinct, Fitz threw one back.  _ His _ punch connected with Milton’s nose with a satisfying crack and the law student fell to his knees. 

Shaking his hand out, Fitz couldn’t believe what had just happened. The last time he had punched someone was Timmy Brubaker in primary school, when he made a nasty remark about his mum and why his dad left.

Peeking over at Jemma, he saw that she was equally gobsmacked. But she regained her wits a little quicker, grabbing his hand and collecting their things.

Pausing in the doorframe, Jemma looked back at Milton, steely eyed and determined. “Don’t call, don’t text. You and I are  _ done.  _ Have a nice life, asshole.” 

She slammed the door behind them to punctuate her point. Marching purposefully down the hallway, Jemma wordlessly led them back to the elevator and far, far away from Milton.

They got halfway down the block, before Jemma stopped, the magnitude of what just happened hitting her. The floodgates opened and tears streamed down her face. Fitz pulled Jemma into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly.

She mumbled something into his shoulder that sounded suspiciously like mousy know-it-all.  

Fitz consoled, “Hey, hey. Don’t let what that cabbage head said get to you.  _ He’s _ the one clearly in the wrong here-- he cheated on you.  _ He’s _ the ass that threw away the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“He does have a cabbage head, doesn’t he?” Jemma laughed in spite of herself, still sniffling slightly.

“We don’t have to got to Daisy’s party, you know. I’m sure she would understand if you weren’t feeling up to, considering the circumstances.”

“What, so I can go home and wallow in self-pity?” Jemma said, squaring her shoulders and drying her eyes with her sleeve. “No, we’re going. And we’re going to have a fantastic time. I’m not letting that jerk ruin my night.”

* * *

Between their ill-fated detour to Milton’s and the time it took Jemma to collect herself, by the time they got to Daisy’s, they were definitely pushing the limits of what was considered “fashionably” late. And, if the noise from the other side of the door was any indication, the party was already was in full swing.

Flinging the door open, Daisy’s face lit up when she saw it was them. “There you guys are! Now the party can really get started!” she said, taking their coats and tossing them on the small mountain of them by the door. “Not gonna lie, I was getting a little worried. I’m so used to you both being annoyingly on time.”

Barely mumbling a greeting (let alone an excuse for their lateness), Jemma slipped past Daisy and made a beeline for the punchbowl. Filling a red solo cup with eggnog, Fitz watched her chug it down in three seconds flat. And then again, as she topped off her glass and tossed back another just as quickly.   

As Jemma started to refill her cup for third time, Daisy pressed her hand on her friend’s arm to stop her, “Um, Jem, do you think you maybe want to pace yourself a bit? Remember last year? Two cups put you on your ass. And that was over the course of a whole night, not five minutes.”

“Considering I just caught my boyfriend of two-and-a-half years cheating on me, I think getting completely and utterly trashed is a wholly appropriate course of action.”

“For real?” Daisy asked, looking at Fitz to confirm. At his nod, she leapt into action,  “God, what a jerk! Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Tonight, we’re going to get really, really drunk and generally have a kickass time. Then, tomorrow, I’ll hack into Harvard’s network and make sure the douchebag fails all of his classes. Oooh, or maybe plant incriminating photos so no law firm will even think of hiring him. I’ll figure out the details later, but regardless, he’s going to regret the day he ever hurt one of my friends.”

Jemma pulled Daisy into an impossibly tight hug, “Thanks, Daisy. That means a lot, but it’s probably not necessary. I mean, Fitz already punched him in the face. He’s probably going to wake up with a black eye-- I’d say that’s punishment enough.”

“Oh my God, guys-- Talk about burying the lead! Way to go, Fitz!” Daisy cheered, holding up her hand for a high five.

As Fitz slapped Daisy’s outstretched hand, a blush crept up his cheeks. Embarrassed, he ducked his head.  “It’s not that big of a deal. I just acted on instinct. And, the wanker bloody well deserved it.” 

“It was a big deal to me,” Jemma said softly. “Not to mention, it was super satisfying to watch him practically crumple to the ground.”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile at the memory, “It was, wasn’t it? Well, you deserve better. Good riddance, I say.”

“Hear, hear!” Daisy said, standing up on her tiptoes and grabbed a bottle of top shelf tequila from above the fridge. “So I was planning on saving this, but I think this situation calls for something a little stronger than nog.“

Daisy lined up three shot glasses and filled them with the amber colored liquor. Handing one to each of the them, she toasted, “To a very Merry Christmas and a douchebag free New Year!”

_ Bottoms up _ , Fitz thought, wincing slightly as the alcohol burned down his throat. 

* * *

Hours later, Fitz hung back a bit, nursing a beer as the party raged on around him. As he watched Jemma and Daisy belt out Christmas carols, he couldn’t help but smile.

Their friends had rallied around Jemma help her have fun and forget all about Milton. Bobbi and Daisy had barely left her side all night. Trip, acting as the party’s DJ, played constant stream of her favorite songs. Hunter had taken it upon himself to make sure she was well supplied with alcohol. Mack had offered to go finish what Fitz started. Honestly, it warmed Fitz’s heart to see how they all took it personally when one of their own was hurting.

“Fitz!” Jemma called out, beckoning him over to the makeshift dance floor.

Draining what was left of his beer, Fitz joined his friends. Jemma slung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him  into an awkward side hug, “There you are! I missed you!”

Fitz resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Drunk Jemma. He had never seen his normally reserved best friend so… uninhibited. “I’ve practically been right beside you the whole time. I just left to go get some beer.”

“Oh, beer! Did you bring me any?”

Barely able to contain his laughter, Fitz pointed at the red cup in her hand, “You have some right there, Jem.”

“Right! Silly me!” Jemma said, looking down at the cup before downing it in one gulp. “But now it’s all gone.”

Before anyone could respond, Hunter popped up out nowhere, cup in hand,  “Here you go, love.”

“Thank yooou! I dunno what I’d do without you guys. Seeeriously, the best friends a girl could ask for,” Jemma half-slurred. “But Fitzy here is my bestest friend.”

Hunter, Daisy and Bobbi burst out laughing and Fitz turned bright red.

Jemma looked at them, confused. “What’s so funny?”

Craning her neck to see if she was missing something, Jemma lost her balance and stumbled-- right into Fitz’s waiting arms. Holding her for a beat longer than strictly  necessary, Fitz let her go and righted her on her feet.

Sharing a look with Daisy, Fitz suggested, “Alright, that’s it. I think it’s time to get you home.”

She pouted, “But I don’t want to leave. I’m having so much fun! Don’t be a party pop-ppp...”

“A party pooper?” Daisy supplied.

Jemma nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, that’s it. Don’t be a party pooper, Fitz.”

“I’m not being a party pooper. It’s just time to go.”

“Yes, you are.”

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, Fitz was reminded of how difficult it was to reason with drunk people. He had gotten a lot of practice with Hunter over the years, but he found it much harder to say no to Jemma.

Luckily, Daisy chimed in, “You won’t be missing anything, babe. The party’s over-- everyone’s gonna be going home.”

Jemma relented, “Oh! I guess if everyone else is leaving, we can too.”

Fitz mouthed a quick  _ thank you  _ to the other girl over Jemma’s head. 

Everyone said their goodbyes quickly, with hugs exchanged and promises to talk tomorrow made.

Seeing how unsteady Jemma was on her feet, he didn’t want to risk walking home on potentially icy sidewalks and requested an Uber from his phone. The ride was short and before he knew it, he was helping Jemma up the stairs of her apartment.

After helping her over to the couch, he fumbled around in her medicine cabinet, looking for Advil. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, Fitz filled it up with water. Sitting down next to Jemma on the couch, he handed both to her and said, “Here, take this. Might help you not feel like crap tomorrow. But with how much you had to drink tonight, I’m not sure anything can save you from that.”

Having sobered up slightly on the way home, Jemma took it without complaint, “Thanks for taking such good care of me, Fitz. For being here for me.”

She snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

Fitz didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just went with the truth. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

“Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Not just today, but this whole year. You’ve been my rock.”

Jemma looked up at him, her brown eyes swimming with emotion, and rested her hand on his chest. Next thing he knew, she had leaned in and pushed her lips to his. It was so soft and natural that it took a moment to register that he was actually kissing Jemma Simmons. Thumb caressing her cheek, he instinctively deepened the kiss, before realizing that this was absolutely terrible timing and they needed to stop.

Summoning every bit of willpower he had, Fitz broke apart the kiss, “No, no. We should stop. You’re drunk and hurting over Milton, this isn’t a good idea.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Just forget it,” she mumbled, looking embarrassed.

_ Not bloody likely _ , thought Fitz. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, so he started to explain, “It’s not that I’m--

But before he could get any further, Jemma clasped a hand over her mouth and exclaimed, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Later, as he was carrying a passed out Jemma into her bedroom, Fitz looked down at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful. Laying her down in her bed, he brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face. Jemma probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning; but for Fitz, the way her lips felt pressed against his had been seared into his memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, finally got this chapter done! One more to go :) If you liked this chapter, I'd love to hear from you in the comments! Otherwise, feel free to hit me up on tumblr @accio-the-force!


	3. Year Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Everyone! It's a Christmas miracle-- one year later, I finally finished this fic! Hope you enjoy!

“Fitz, don’t let your end drag on the ground or else we’ll end up with a sad, misshapen Christmas tree,” Jemma directed.

Fitz grumbled, as he paused to readjust his grip on the tree he and Jemma had just bought and now were lugging up the stairs of the 3rd floor walk up they had moved into together after graduation.

“We wouldn’t want that,” Fitz replied. “Not after you insisted on a real tree. You know, a fake one would have been, by definition, perfectly shaped and more importantly, delivered straight to our door.”

“An artificial Christmas tree?” Jemma wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Honestly, Fitz, we’ve been over this. It’s traditional-- it’s just doesn’t feel like Christmas without that real, fresh evergreen smell. Besides, they look so much better and I think the one we got is absolutely perfect.”

“It better be, after you dragged me to not one, not two but _three_ different Christmas tree lots in search of this so-called perfect tree.”

“In my defense, that first place we went to was horribly overpriced and the second’s selection was pathetic. They didn’t even have any Fraser firs! Don’t be such a Grinch.”

The pair had finally made it up the stairs and were standing outside their apartment. Fitz set down the tree and leaned it up against the exposed brick to fish his keys out of his pocket.

“I’m not being a Grinch,” he protested, as he turned the key and opened the door. “I just don’t get why you’re making such a big deal about all of this.”

“Well, it’s our first Christmas together in our new apartment and neither of us are going home for the holidays this year, so I just wanted to make it special.”

“Ah, jeez, Simmons, I didn’t realize,” Fitz apologized, as he carried the tree over to the window and set in down in the waiting tree stand. He had been rather grumpy. “No more complaining from me. You know what, I could probably rig something up to set the tree lights to music, if you want.”

“That would be great!” Jemma smiled brightly. “There’s the Christmas spirit I’ve been looking for out of my best friend!”

 _Best friend_. Those words were like getting doused with a bucket of ice water. If he was being honest with himself, he’d had a crush on Jemma from the moment he saw her standing in front of the departures board at the airport. But their kiss last Christmas had lifted the veil-- and as time passed, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the inconvenient truth that he was in love with his best friend.

Not that Jemma remembered the kiss, of course. The morning after Daisy’s Christmas party, Jemma had woken up with an awful hangover and no recollection of the night after her fourth glass of eggnog.

Fitz, on the other hand, remembered every single detail about that night. He could still picture the way she lightly grabbed his curls as they kissed. He could still taste how her lip gloss and rum mingled together to create an intoxicating scent. He remembered how Jemma’s body felt pressed up against his when he carried her to her room. It was all permanently etched into his memory.

Still, while he may be haunted by the Ghost of Christmas Kisses Past, Fitz wouldn’t trade the memory of it for anything. Even if it meant that he had to shove his feelings into a box and pretend that he didn’t want to be more than just friends.

* * *

As the upbeat melody of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” filled their apartment, Jemma hummed along as she placed another ornament on the tree. Fitz, on the other hand, hung back off and watched the scene in front of him unfold, entranced. Afterall, the way the lights twinkled paled in comparison to the smile that lit up Jemma’s face. _God, he was so screwed_.

“You’re supposed to be helping me, Fitz, not staring off into space,” Jemma teased.

Caught, Fitz stammered out, “Uh, right-- sorry. I’ll come help.”

Jemma eyed his container of ornaments, which was considerably more full than hers. With a glint in her eye, she said, “Tell you what-- if you can finish putting the rest of your ornaments before me, I’ll give you a surprise.”

That piqued his interest. “Really? What kind of surprise?"

Jemma sing-songed, “You’ll just have to beat me to find out.”

Fitz hoped it was some of her famous ginger snaps. With newfound determination, he replied, “You’re _so_ on.”

Fitz punctuated his declaration by grabbing two ornaments at a time and sticking them on the tree. Jemma just laughed and picked up an ornament of her own.

Soon, both containers were empty and the tree was completely decorated.

Jemma took a step back to survey their handiwork, “Now that’s what I call a Christmas tree! It’s starting to feel like Christmas in here.”

“It really did turn out great,” Fitz agreed, as he flopped onto the couch.“But, where’s my surprise? Since I won and all.”

Jemma rolled her eyes and handed Fitz a small, red and green gift bag, “I was going to give this to you tonight anyway, but I thought you could just use a little extra motivation to decorate the tree.”

“So you tricked me? That’s a good way to end up on the naughty list, Simmons, ” Fitz teased, as he dug through the tissue paper until he hit something hard.

“I think Santa would approve of my methods,” Jemma said.

Fitz unwrapped the tissue to reveal another ornament. Turning it over in his hand, he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was a picture frame ornament in the shape of one of those best friend necklaces that were so popular in primary school. In the middle was a selfie Jemma had taken of the pair of them smiling brightly, from when they went to the zoo to see the capuchin monkeys on his last birthday. And of course, at the bottom, it was emblazoned with _Best Friends Forever_. In glitter, naturally, because the universe felt the need to mock him some more.

Jemma looked at him expectantly, “I wanted to get something special to mark our first Christmas living together.  Do you like it?”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in throat, he plastered what he hoped was a believable smile on his face and replied, “Yeah, of course. That was thoughtful of you. Thanks, Jemma.”

“You’re welcome,” Jemma said, eyeing him carefully. “Are you sure? You’re acting kind of strange.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are too. Do you not like the present? I have other things for you on Christmas, promise-- this was just a little something extra.”

“The present’s fine. I’m fine. Just leave it alone, Jemma.”

“Fitz, you’re my best friend in the world-- I can tell when something’s wrong with you,” Jemma cajoled.

Jemma calling him her best friend, _again_ , finally pushed him over the edge. Fitz snapped,  “Yeah, but, you’re more than that, Jemma.”

His words hung in the air for a beat. Jemma sucked in an uneven breath.

Figuring he had nothing to lose, Fitz barreled on, “I love you. I’ve probably been in love with you since we first met at the airport. I kept my feelings to myself and bit my tongue when you were with Milton. But, even after you broke up, I still didn’t have the courage to tell you.”

Jemma looked at him sympathetically and tried to interrupt, “Fitz--”

But Fitz didn’t let her, “I’m sorry, I know this could completely ruin everything and I’ve tried to ignore how I feel but, ever since we kissed, it’s become harder and harder to do.”

“Wait, we kissed? When? And more importantly, why don’t I remember this?” Jemma asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“It was after Daisy’s party last year. We were sitting on your couch and you just… kissed me. I assumed it was just because you were sad and upset about Milton and I was just there.”

“That was real? I thought I dreamt that,” Jemma murmured, mostly to herself.

“It was definitely real. Believe me-- it’s not something I’m ever bloody likely to forget. It was better than I had imagined. But I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m just gonna go. I need to clear my head.”

Fitz grabbed his coat and walked out the door without looking back at Jemma. As he shut the door behind him, he heard Jemma calling his name, but he kept moving.

* * *

_He had really bollocked this up._

That was Fitz’s prevailing thought as he wandered aimlessly around Boston. He had probably just ruined his friendship with Jemma. He had certainly ruined their night, if not Christmas as a whole. Worst of all, he had no idea what to do about it, so he just kept walking.

Jemma had been blowing up his phone since he left. She must have called him a dozen times- and that didn’t even include her texts, which, if anything were more frequent.

_Come home, Fitz._

_We need to talk about this._

_Just let me know you’re okay._

He could only assume she had called Hunter at some point, because he had started to call and text as well.

_What the HELL did you do, mate?_

_Call me if you want to grab a pint and talk._

Overwhelmed and not ready to deal with either of them, Fitz turned off his phone.

Finally taking stock of his surroundings, he realized that he wasn’t far from the Public Gardens. He always loved the park this time of year and there was a bench right in front of the bridge that he was fond of. With a destination in mind, he walked with a little more purpose.

Breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that his favorite bench was empty, he sat down and put his head in his hands. He had really made a mess of things-- and running away hadn’t helped matters. The question was what was he going to do about it now.

He stared out at the half frozen pond, deep in thought and not really aware of his surroundings or the passage of time-- which is why when he heard a familiar female voice call out, “There you are!” he nearly jumped out of his skin.

He spun around to see Jemma standing at the base of the bridge, bundled up in her blue jacket and matching pom-pom beanie.

Fitz hopped off the bench and crossed the short distance to meet her, “Jemma? How on earth did you find me? _I_ didn’t even know I’d be here.”

“First, I tried the pub around the corner from our apartment. When you weren’t there, I tried that bookstore on 2nd that you love, you know the one with the cafe with the really good tea selection? After I struck out there, I remembered you loved to come to this spot to think.”

Fitz looked at her incredulously, “You didn’t really go to all those places, did you?”

“I did.”

Fitz looked down at his feet and muttered, “Why would you go to all that trouble?”

Instead of answering the question, Jemma rebuked, “You know for someone so smart, you can be a real idiot sometimes.”

“I know, I’m sorry--”

Jemma shook her head and stopped him before he could get any further, “No, you had your turn back at the apartment. It’s my turn, since you ran out last time before I got the chance to process what you were saying, let alone respond. Which brings me back to my original point: you’re an idiot. Because if you had stuck around, I would have told you, I love you too.”

Fitz did a double take and gaped at Jemma like a fish. Of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing he would have expected. Hope filled his chest. “You do?”

Jemma took a step towards him, “I do. How could I not? I may not remember that kiss, but I do remember how you’ve been right by my side ever since we met. You’re one of the good ones, Leopold Fitz. You’re kind, smart and sweet… I guess somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. Really, I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

Fitz couldn’t help himself and pointed out, “You stole that line from Pride and Prejudice.”

“That’s all you have to say? Here I am trying to be romantic and--”

Fitz cut off Jemma’s rant by pressing his lips to hers. After a second, he deepened the kiss and grabbed Jemma by the waist. One of her hands snaked its way from the base of his neck down to rest softly on his cheek.

As if on cue, snow began to fall around them, creating a magical snow globe effect around them.

“Now that’s a kiss I’ll never forget,” Jemma said, pressing her forehead to his.

“You mean we could have been doing that this whole time?” Fitz groaned. “I really am an idiot.”

“Hmm, better make up for lost time,” she whispered as she pulled him in for another kiss.

Eventually, the pair broke apart and walked hand in hand across the snow-covered bridge in the direction of home. Smiling, happy and in love, both had all they could ever want for Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! I had a BLAST writing it. Stay tuned for the remaining chapters in the days to come (gotta finish it before we get too far beyond the Christmas season!).
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to follow me over on tumblr @accio-the-force!


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